


Where the Stars Lead Us - a collection of Kirk/Spock ficlets

by LeandraLocke



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabbles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, flangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeandraLocke/pseuds/LeandraLocke
Summary: Admittedly, you can't really call ONE ficlet a collection. But I do intend to write more than just the one. ;-)The rating might be change as I add more drabbles.1. Filling the prompt: “How about jim and spock enjoying a nice spring afternoon on a new planet and jim making flower crowns for his crew“2. A romantic (not smutty) shower scenario with lots of feels.





	1. Flower Crowns

**Author's Note:**

> After a two-year pause due to writer's block, I've finally picked up writing again. I am working on a longer Kirk/Spock fic, too, but, to get back in there and practice a little, I'm collecting drabble/ficlet prompts. **If any of you have a prompt I could fill just hit me!**  
>  This first instalment follows the prompt by tumblr user lucifier666, who requested: “How about jim and spock enjoying a nice spring afternoon on a new planet and jim making flower crowns for his crew“

“I find your endeavour quite illogical, captain,” Spock said, just as Jim had told him of his intentions to make flower crowns for his entire crew. 

Jim had to laugh. “Yeah, and you also found me ripping out ‘the native flora with no useful purpose’ illogical, so I’m making use of them now.”

Admittedly, the former had been done absentmindedly with no conscious thought to it. The latter however, Jim did purely to mess with Spock and see his reaction. 

“And you know, you could really call me Jim now. This is a purely recreational stop,” Jim teased. “You’re not on duty.” 

“Quite contrary, Jim,” Spock replied, raising an eyebrow. “You are surrounded by alien plant life. Given your inclination for severe allergic reactions, it is highly probable--”

“Relax, Spock. Bones shot me with every antihistamine he knows. I’m gonna be fine. Just… enjoy the scenery.” 

Spock gave a barely visible and audible sigh of exasperation and sat down on the meadow more comfortably, abandoning his rigid cross-legged position and stretching out his legs as he leant on one elbow. His gaze, however, wasn’t trailing over the meadow full of the most colourful flowers or the hill that gently rolled into a ripe, green and purple valley in the warm tinge of the orange sunlight - Jim seriously wondered when he’d last seen something so beautiful and picturesque on any of their explorations. No, Spock’s eyes were fixed on him as his hands played with the small flowers and tried to weave them into a wreath. 

“Really, Spock, I’m fine. I just said enjoy the beautiful scenery.” 

Spock’s gaze didn’t move, and when Jim fully met it, he could see the hint of a smile curling around the corners of Spock’s mouth. “But I am, Jim.” 

“Oh you sap.” Jim huffed out a laugh, unable to do anything but let himself fall backwards into the soft grass, right next to Spock. His hand found Spock’s fingers and entwined with them softly. “You realise you can look at me for  _ hours _ every day?” 

Spock projected something warm and affectionate through the mild telepathic link of their fingers. “I find the way the natural sunlight of this planet manipulates the perceived hue of your hair, your skin and your eyes most aesthetically pleasing. It would be a great oversight not to appreciate it.” 

“Spock,” Jim said softly, smiling as he turned around on his side while Spock lowered himself to rest on his arm bent underneath his head. “You can be such a romantic sometimes.” 

“There is no need for insults, Jim,” Spock replied, and a small laugh bubbled from Jim’s chest as he leaned even closer. He loved it when Spock was messing with him like that. 

Their lips met for a soft, gentle kiss, their fingers still caressing in the Vulcan equivalent to it, tenderly running up and down in feather-light touches. The sunlight, not harsh and hot as it often was on Earth, warmed their bodies, pleasantly prickling on their faces as Jim deepened the kiss for a short moment. Then he slowly turned on his back, looking up into the orange-tinged clouds and greenish sky of the alien planet. He still felt Spock’s gaze on him and that gentle flow of affection, admiration, of love through the link. He could just get lost here forever. 

With a half-relishing, half-regretful sigh he sat back up cross-legged and reached for the abandoned wreath. With just a few more moves, he tied the ends together with a particularly long flower stem and, quickly before Spock could protest, put it on his head. The expression on Spock’s face was priceless, eyebrows and gaze shooting up as if he could actually spot the accessory from below. Jim liked to think that it was his soft laugh and wide grin that kept Spock from removing it instantly. 

“It does suit you,” he said. 

“I will have to trust your expertise,” Spock replied with barely concealed but nonetheless amused exasperation. 

“It does. I bet it looks better on you than anyone else of our crew.” 

“I lack sufficient data to either confirm or refute your assertion,” Spock replied, and Jim could only grin even wider before clapping his hands one. 

“Then help me make a few more of those and test my hypothesis. I bet you’d even find a much better technique than I. With those talented and nimble fingers of yours,” he said, as he leaned down a little more closely to Spock, hearing him draw in a long breath through his nose. 

“There are other uses I can put my hands to,” Spock replied, his voice tell-tale low and rough quite suddenly, a hand reaching around Jim’s waist to pull him back down onto the grass. And well, Jim could get behind that, too. 

As their lips met for another kiss, the flower crown fell from Spock’s head. Jim made a mental note to salvage it and annoy the hell out of Bones with it later, at least. But that thought was soon thoroughly and pleasantly forgotten. 


	2. Wash Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My friend Natalie and I were chatting and I asked her for a prompt. She said she'd have to go take a shower, but would think about it in there. Naturally, the perfect prompt was born from this exchange alone. ;-)  
> She then specified (after I told her I didn't want to write smut since it always got so long), it should be romantic and touchy-feely. It turned out a little more angsty (or I should say flangsty) than that, but here you go.

 

Jim felt the hot water rush onto his skin, the hard spray of the shower head massaging his sore muscles as he stood, leant against the wall with one arm, gaze following the whirl of water flowing down the drain. He knew he shouldn’t waste water like that, but to hell with it. Today he really needed a proper, long and hot shower. The patter of water was soothing, allowing his mind to just zone out on it. And he really, really needed that.

He heard the door of the bathroom open and close again, saw through the milky glass a shadowy shape, black and blue, approach the cabin and then, a moment later, his voice, soft and gentle but loud enough to carry over the rush of the water.

“Jim, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, still not having mustered the energy to reach for the shampoo or move more than from one foot to the other to let the spray hit either half of his back.

“Are you certain?”

The truth was, Jim wasn’t. He wasn’t certain, and he most likely wasn’t fine. The few bumps and bruises he had caught would heal. Just that one scratch on his thigh still burned a little, but that was not the issue. He’d been in much worse states before.

“Jim.” Spock’s voice was still gentle but persisting, and Jim couldn’t resist him any longer. He pushed the cabin door open wide enough to stick one hand through it, fumbling blindly until he felt Spock’s fingers and, a mere second later, a sense of sympathy through the link. It made his heart constrict a little in his chest.

“Jim, you must understand that what happened today was no fault of yours. As we encountered a still unknown phenomenon, it was impossible to predict that the energy beam would hit and thereby kill Lieutenant Saryd. There was nothing on our scanners and no other indication to be detected by any of our common and individual senses,” he explained what Jim already knew, already did understand. But somehow that hardly made it better. Just the gentle torrent of encouragement, of a feeling that translated to something like ‘hey, don’t be sad’, made it a tiny bit easier.

Jim opened the shower cabin door a bit wider. “Get in here,” he said, his own voice sounding tired and discouraged.

Spock didn’t hesitate. Without his usual care, he undressed quickly, letting his uniform simply fall to the ground before stepping into the shower cabin behind Jim. Immediately, a hand wrapped around his middle and he felt Spock’s body, almost as warm as the hot water, press against his back. Spock’s other hand drifted to his again as he held him, fore and middle fingers caressing his own.

“She was going to get married,” Jim said although it wasn’t new information to Spock. “She was looking forward to it so much. Just a few more weeks and she’d have gotten off this ship.” He had to take a deep breath. “Started a new life. A family maybe.”

Spock didn’t say anything, probably understanding that Jim just needed to get this out. He continued to project something calm and soothing through the link, his other hand gently rubbing over Jim’s abdomen and side.

“I didn’t even know her well, you know? We hardly ever spoke. So I don’t know why…” He inhaled deeply, seeing the face of the young engineering Lieutenant as she had requested transfer and told him, beaming, about the planned wedding. “Why this gets to me so much. It’s not the first time we’ve lost a crew member.”

Spock was silent for a while longer. Just the presence of his mind there to soothe Jim and his small, gentle touches.

“Despite theoretic concepts, grief is not measurable, Jim,” he said then, turning him around carefully in his arms to look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t seem to follow logic, and there is no limit to its extent in one instance compared to another.”

There was the briefest hint of grief coming through the link, or the memory of it, as an image sparked up for just a split-second before Spock projected calm again. Jim knew it had been involuntary, but he had recognised it clearly. Had seen himself behind the glass through Spock’s eyes, and it suddenly tore something loose in Jim.

He buried his face against the crook of Spock’s neck, not knowing, among the spray of water, if tears had actually started falling from his eyes.

“I apologise, Jim. I did not mean for you to see what you just saw.” Hands slowly ran over Jim’s back, and Spock’s body pressed closer, holding him in a tight embrace.

“What you went through is what Saryd’s fiancé will have to go through. As soon as I send the message.” And God, Jim really didn’t want to.

“I cannot tell you don’t grieve, Jim,” Spock continued. “But do know this: Saryd was a Starfleet officer who knew she would potentially encounter dangerous situations. She served under you freely and, as I gather from her reports and logs, gladly. Jim, throughout your career you have saved many more lives, at great personal cost, than have been lost under your captaincy. And each loss that you had to witness, you handled with the utmost respect and appreciation for each individual. You care deeply about every one of your crew, even those you, as you said, do not know well. It is what makes you, aside from a capable officer, an excellent captain. A true leader.”

Jim was quiet for a while, his face still nestled against Spock, arms slung around his shoulders as he let the words slowly sink in and manifest. Although, in detail, he had said nothing that was unknown to Jim, hearing it again _did_ help. It did make it somewhat easier, _did_ ease his conscience a little. In the very least, it was confirmation that, no matter how tough things got, he had Spock there with him. To say the right things when he needed to hear them. To simply be there and give whatever he could, whatever Jim needed.

Jim looked up and, after a long, deep breath, forced a smile on his lips. It wasn’t as hard as he would have thought.

“Okay, before I grow webbing or gills, we should probably wrap this up.”

“I can assure you that this is not a realistic outcome of showering too long,” Spock said, and yes, this was good too. It was just what he needed, what made that smile on his lips become even somewhat more genuine. “But I do agree that we should probably, as you put it, wrap this up.”

“Alright then,” Jim said and reached for the shampoo bottle. He just wanted to open it when a thought occurred to him and he handed the bottle to Spock instead. “You don’t mind?” he asked, knowing he needn’t express the request fully. Spock had done this before, had gently massaged his scalp when Jim had felt particularly tense. “Will you?”  

Spock nodded, and a barely visible smile played around his lips. “Whatever you require, Jim.”

 


	3. Win-Win Scenario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an OLD ficlet that I wrote in 2011 (holy f...). I just found it again today, not even really having remembered it. So I'm adding it to the collection now. 
> 
> Jim tries to persuade Spock to tell Sarek they’re together. (Answer to a prompt: “KS, they plan to tell Sarek that they’re together, and Spock is logically freaking out.”)

“Spock. Stop freaking out."   
  
"I am hardly freaking out, Jim.” Perfectly calm tone, usual posture with his hands folded behind his back. But pacing the room as if he had ants in his pants. “I am merely estimating the most likely reaction my father would show to such a revelation. Now you may not believe in no-win scenarios…” Oh, the sarcasm. “But considering the fact that matrimony in Vulcan society is a concept solely meant for the purpose of reproduction – which, by the way, contrary to what Doctor McCoy may have jested about, does require the involvement of a female – I do not see how my father could logically give his approval.”

“Um, Spock,” Jim interjected before the Vulcan could continue his… well… rant. “Just so we’re clear, I didn’t ask you to marry me."   
  
"Precisely,” Spock replied a little more forcefully than needed. “Another reason why I do not see the necessity to inform him."   
  
Jim was not ready to give up just yet. "Well okay. Let’s look at this logically."   
  
One sharply raised eyebrow spoke of sceptic curiosity.   
  
"Your father was ambassador on Earth, right?”  
  
“Correct.”  
  
“He was also married to a human.”  
  
“Correct.”  
  
“Which, by the way, wasn’t only a logical choice to have her as some sort of guinea pig. You told me he confessed to you that he loved her.”  
  
“Yes, but she was fe-”  
  
“I’m not finished yet,” Jim interrupted him and almost thought to hear the faintest, exasperated sigh coming from Spock. Or just a slightly deeper exhale, which basically was the Vulcan equivalent to an exasperated sigh. “And he also wanted you to be raised with both influences, Vulcan AND human; and he honoured your mother’s traditions and accepted her opinions even if they seemed illogical to him or didn’t correspond with what he was used to. Also correct?”  
  
There was a brief flicker of uncertainty in Spock’s eyes, focus drifting from one spot somewhere in the distance to the next before that stubborn determination returned to his features and he straightened his shoulders in defiance. “Yes, but…"   
  
"AND, besides the fact that your father knows perfectly that same-sex marriage has been legal and perfectly accepted by human society for centuries now-"   
  
"I was under the impression we were not speaking about marriage,” Spock interrupted him this time.   
  
Jim only smiled. Spock was so not going to win this argument. Vulcan IQ of 400 or something be damned. “Exactly! It’s not even that drastic, we’re just… together. So the argument that you’d somehow commit blasphemy against Vulcan traditions and rituals doesn’t count. I’m not finished,” he raised his hand as he saw Spock opening his lips and was pleased to see him reluctantly shut his mouth. “And haven’t you told me that there are Vulcans who break their previous bonds with their mate when they undergo Kolinahr so that they can devote their lives to science and philosophy? Not all of them have produced offspring before that. And some few even manage to wriggle around Pon Farr, which, by the way, is the only reason you guys ever get married anyway, and never mate at all. For you as a half human it’s a bit different anyway, and as far as your father knows you haven’t even had your first Pon Farr yet.”  
  
“And I would very much like to keep it that way."   
  
Jim grinned. "I agree. He doesn’t have to know everything."   
  
"No, he does not. In fact, you still have failed to come up with one cogent reason why we should inform him of our bond at all."   
  
"Spock. That’s because you keep interrupting me.” Jim shouldn’t enjoy this as much as he did because he knew Spock really was fretting about this whole ‘coming out’ to his father thing, but the look on his face was just too priceless. “What I was gonna say is that your father knows that you will never be fully Vulcan, and so far he has always accepted that… in the end,” he added with emphasis, knowing of the period in their lives where the relationship had been strained due to Spock’s decision to join Starfleet. “Don’t you think that lying to him and keeping something from him that simply IS would not only be illogical but also disrespectful?   
  
"Sometimes ly-”  
  
“Oh don’t give me that 'sometimes lying for self-preservation is justified’ crap. Sarek is not gonna rip your head off. Spock, don’t you want him to accept and love you – and you know he does – for who you are?"   
  
To anybody that didn’t know Vulcans, or Spock specifically, as well as Jim did this may have come as a futile argument. An appeal at one’s need to feel loved and accepted didn’t really fit the impression most people had of Vulcans. But right there, Jim knew this was what it all came down to: a whole bunch of emotions, most of all fear of rejection that wasn’t any different from what the young boy Spock had once been had gone through all his childhood.   
  
He took a step closer to Spock, gently laid a hand on his upper arm. "Don’t you think that’s what your mother would have wanted for both of you? To get along and welcome each other’s differences instead of fearing them?"   
  
There was silence between them for a long while. Jim was certain Spock was currently wrecking his brain for possible counter-arguments, weighing the odds and trying to find flaws in Jim’s argumentation, but another part of him had long ago given in to the emotional aspect of the scenario.   
  
"I must admit, for a human you possess remarkable persuasive powers.” There were an ever so small resignation and reluctance in the words, yet Jim was thankful for the slightly sarcastic, teasing undertone.   
  
“That’s why I’m the captain,” he grinned and watched Spock briefly raise his eyebrow at the same time as one corner of his mouth twitched, barely visible.   
  
“And why I, surprisingly, can hardly ever win an argument against you."   
  
Jim knew what Spock really meant to say was: That is why I love you. 


End file.
